Her v. Us

There has been an imperceptible shift in our family, and it became obvious this week. To this point in Scotlen's life, we have all been part of the same team. Working together. Supporting her every need. Her world has been divided into us and the rest of the Earth. This has now changed. No longer do our interests align without exception. No longer is it us v. them. Somewhere along the way, it became her v. us. This inescapable fact came to light this week when Kyle and I made some horrible, unthinkable suggestion - like, if you're going to bed, maybe you should wear pajamas. Or, if you're going to eat spaghetti, maybe silverware should be involved. Scotlen, following her most disgusted expression, declared in voice of absolute certainty, "You guys just don't want me to have any fun!"

What? We were under the impression that our every waking moment was dedicated to the singular enjoyment of her life. Apparently, we were mistaken. More to come, I am sure, regarding this developing schism in the house.

It now appears that Kyle and I were punished by the gods for our horrible parenting skills by attending the UT/UCLA game on Saturday. The price of a ticket entitled each spectator to a seat, a montage of music from some of the world's best movies, and a giant slap in the face. Actually, it was more like four slaps in the face - one for each offensive turnover. And yes, offensive has a double meaning here. At least we are no longer operating under the delusion that the Vols have a fighting chance in the swamp on Saturday. I, for one, will be taking the children far into the mountains, away from all technology. I feel they are just to young to witness such annihilation.

Kyle and I wallowed in the loss all the way back to Chestnut Grove, where these faces wiped away all sadness: